Suburbia Perfection

You know when you think you know all the nuances of your town, know all the streets and roads and secret cut-throughs and best neighborhoods and dead ends? Apparently I’m not there yet.

Let me back up for a second.

Last summer, Pete and I bought matching Honda Ruckuses. Pete wrote about them over on his site earlier this year. They’re much more rugged than the Vespa scooter models you’re used to seeing, more so like mountain bikes than the casual yellow Schwinn that you see on the boardwalk if you want a fancy little bicycling analogy. They’re road-legit, although not suitable for highway travel, but we picked up brand-spankin’-new ’09 models right from a dealer, last 2 on the lot, seriously discounted. So seriously that both of them are already paid off. Debt free transportation is a win these days. So is 107MPG. And while our license plates are one digit different from one another (which is sort of embarrassing like “oooh, so cute, his and hers”), these are the most badass scooters… maybe ever. What I’m getting at is now we spend every warm weekend exploring and scooting to destinations, dead ends, and new neighborhoods (usually in search of random garage sales and hot dog stands). Buying scooters has ultimately increased our awareness of neighborhoods we might not have come across otherwise.

This weekend, we found heaven. Heaven, as in a hidden new-to-us neighborhood.

Following handmade signs to a modest estate sale, we found ourselves completely leaving the expected run-of-the-mill suburban strip of 1940’s homes and heading down a very weathered trail, lined with trees and legitimately kick-ass mid-century estates.

We had no idea where we were and stopped to check out the coordinates via our iPhones.

I was actually Zillowing the heck of out of the neighborhood, astonished at the extreme affordability indicated by the few homes that were on the market. Yes, I just used Zillow as a verb. It’s my lifeline to real estate knowledge… and if you’re curious, the properties were listed between $89,000-$200,000. WHHHHAT, that’s right. Lots on the lower end of that spectrum, too. We were expecting much higher price points given the property and seclusion alone. Although, I will remind you that were literally a half-mile from the totally as-you-would-envision row of beaten down american foursquares. It was remote and silent and made you feel like you were hiding away somewhere in the Adirondacks, not just around the corner from Wegmans, HSBC, and Starbucks.

This one probably would have been selling for considerably more. Swoon.

But this one right across the street from it was handsome and actually something I could have afforded if I were still gainfully employed. I quit that job on Thursday, if you missed the memo. It was actually much closer to the curb and at road-level than most; lots of homes were secluded in the woods and had long driveways that wove up steep hills.

And if I hadn’t quit my job already, this post might be very different, because I probably would have BOUGHT this next house on the spot if I still had that steady source of income and stuff (you know, all the good stuff mortgage lenders need to see). It’s a legit working fruit farm and stable, totally in my price range, and, well, an income property if you consider that the stables are for boarding. Yeah, it’s for sale, and no, I’m not telling you where so that if something happens (like I win the lottery) I can swipe it up. Not joking.

And, if all these pictures and info about how inexpensive Rochester housing can be didn’t sell you yet, the hidden neighborhood is still only 2 miles from this:

That’s the mouth of the Genesee River as it opens up into Lake Ontario. Amazing. At the hidden Adirondack-eqsue mid-century bungalow at night, and at the beach all day? Win-win, if you ask me.

P.S. Found some great goodies at the estate sale; the sale itself was a mid-century decorator’s and jeweler’s dream sale. We went back on Sunday when we didn’t have to worry about carrying stuff on our scooters. I’ll give you a sneak peek tomorrow.